


Three Sentence Fics

by Daegaer



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 3 Sentence Ficathon, 3 Sentence Fiction, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angels, Demons, Future Fic, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: Written for the 3-Sentence Ficathon, 2020.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Three Sentence Fics

Prompt: _Gabriel & Beelzebub, "It's too early for this shit"_

"It'zz zztill the _Bronzze Age_ ," Beelzebub said irritably, "What have you _done?_ "

"We've done nothing; the Antichrist is strictly your department – your designers have clearly jumped the arbalest," Gabriel snapped, glaring at the armies forming up behind the child with glowing eyes.

Beelzebub rubbed their forehead, muttering something about enthusiastic workers, or maybe the stupidity of underlings; it was difficult to make out over the agitated buzzing.

* * *

Prompt: _Aziraphale/Crowley, the far future_

“It’s not as much fun, now that they've all uploaded their minds,” Crowley said, bitterly corrupting hundreds of lines of code.

“We are creatures of spirit and aether,” Aziraphale reminded him, “It should hardly matter to us - God, I wish I could get a real drink.”

The Earth spun on, dark and sleeping, the only two still conscious minds filled with memories of glorious past dinners.

* * *

Prompt: _Send my regards to Hell_

"Send my regards to Hell," Crowley says, the voice all wrong in his mouth.

"Likewise, Heavenwards," Aziraphale says, and gives him quite the cockiest smile Crowley has seen outside of his own mirror, "Chin up, dear boy, this will work."

It has to, Crowley thinks in blank terror; it has to.

* * *

Prompt: _Aziraphale/Crowley New Life_

"But what _is_ it?" Crowley asked in horror as the curly-haired beast French-kissed him all over.

"I got horribly drunk in a scientific laboratory and tried to sketch my hallucinations, and I'm afraid I brought that one to life," Aziraphale said sheepishly, "I'm calling it a labradoodle."

"I hate everything," Crowley wailed as the beast stared into his soul with innocent devotion, and then single-mindedly started humping his leg.


End file.
